The Sun Was Beginning Its Descent . . .

. . . over the far ridgeline, casting ever longer shadows across the green-tinged trees on the floor of the valley. My thoughts returned, as they have frequently, to whether Barack Obama has the right stuff. There was the unmistakable kree-eee-ar of a red-tailed hawk in the distance. Damn! I forgot to take dinner out of the freezer. I pondered Pope Benedict's message to the faithful gathered on the lawn of the White House. Something caught my eye. It was the boy across the road playing with his golden retriever. And then something else. Deer browsing on the wood line. The Dow Jones Industrial Average was up 256. The cats, striking identical at-attention military poses, sat at the door at the door in anticipation of their evening treats. The sound of Duke Ellington’s "Don’t Get Around Much Anymore" seeped through the sliders on the deck. It was getting chilly. I replayed in my head an interview I'd had that morning with a political analyst who said that Hillary Clinton had the choice of being presidential or being carnivorous in the debate. An easy choice, I thought.

Photograph by Christopher Kelley